Like clockwork, a switch,

a curtain that never fades
one to another and inside out,

to toggle the earth,
in flaxen shades, 

 Ivy emerald --- ruby red
gold and bronze leafs, are surely shed,

A stream that flows from a river's bed,
sends frothy bouncy water up ahead,
and carries some branches with leaf's affixed,
one tree from the million's that has come to rest.

 Suspended nature at its best.  

This was fall,
a season
before winter